


Fly

by DaisyIfYouHave



Series: Overgays universe [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Tracer irritating the shit out of Pharah in her charming way, she will get these gays together if it kills her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 20:29:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14838647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyIfYouHave/pseuds/DaisyIfYouHave
Summary: Tracer knows what Pharah wants, whether Pharah will admit to it or not,and she's going to use every ounce of her personal charm (She she'd call it) to make it happen





	Fly

She tried to keep her mind on pertinent things. She was a commander, and a commander should keep her head in the game at all times, her team needed her, needed her strength, and her guidance.

And yet, her mind floated, in an unregimented way Pharah found borderline offensive, back to Mercy. There would be plenty of time for romance later, once she had established herself, Pharah kept repeating, but her heart kept beating Angela’s name in every quiet moment, and her thoughts flickered over the way her spring of hair danced when she laughed, the blue of her eyes that made Pharah feel she was staring into the entire sky, and the gentle brush of her hands, handling Pharah like a precious artifact.

When she heard her name in Mercy’s mouth, it was as if it were being pronounced correctly for the first time, that in the whole of her life she had never heard the way it was meant to be said. As if she were the only one meant to say it.

It was silly and childish, to be this girl, cooing about her love on an afternoon when she should be studying strategy, or the specifications Winston sent over for the flight suit being developed for her, which was a tremendous honor and she should be thinking of that, and not her foolish schoolyard crush.

But then, was it such a crime, to imagine taking her hand, and feeling the cool comfort her wedding ring? Maybe not a crime, but a folly. She had only been on two dates, if they could be called that, with all of Pharah’s stumbling.

She stared out the window, the moving golds of the desert reminding her of Mercy’s hair spread out over the pillow, and whispered her name softly.

“Pining over your sweet’eart, are we?”

Pharah whipped around, scowling and hoping she could not see the blush at her cheeks. The pilot working on the Raptora program. She had joined with Helix at their request, having both the knowledge of piloting strange aircraft and the necessary connections to Winston’s research. Pharah had spent months working with her on the project.

She was intensely irritating.

“I was not pining. I was,” she picked up a book from the table, “reading.”

Tracer took a prawn chip out of the small bag she was holding, and crunched it between her teeth. “Of course, love. I read by staring out the window, as well.”

“I am not your love.” She sat down at the small table.

“It’s a turn of phrase, Pharah, don’t they teach you about cultural sensitivity in ‘elix?” She grinned and sat down at the table with Pharah, despite being what Pharah considered distinctly not invited.

Pharah opened her book, ignoring the fact that she had no idea which page she had been on. “I am very busy with my work.”

_Crunch. Crunch_. The table began to shake, and Pharah looked down at the ground, where Tracer’s leg was bouncing quickly against the tile.

“I can ‘ear you pining from ‘ere, you know.” She gave as smirk as Pharah looked back up at her.

“I am not–”

In a flash, Tracer tossed her chips on the table and went over to the window, leaning against it with a woebegone look in her eyes. She closed them dramatically, and whispered. “Angela.”

Very briefly, Pharah thought about exactly how much damage a hardcover book might do, if tossed at full speed across the room, and whether or not she could receive an official censure for it.  _The book slipped from my hand?_  Maybe.

Tracer whirled around and leaned against the wall. “You know I fly there rather often? Win lives there, as well, and ‘e misses me, during the year, when university’s in session, and so I fly over often as I’m able. It’s an unaccompanied flight, but it doesn’t ‘ave to be.”

Pharah’s heart leapt at the chance to see Mercy, to do something other than send her a stupid postcard from Cairo of the pyramids, saying something inescapably weak that contained none of what she felt. Pharah was a woman of actions, and not words, and if she could just show Mercy…

She shut her book. “What would you want in return?”

Tracer bounced off the wall and strolled over to Pharah. “Bit of petrol money, some crisps when we refuel in London. Besides,” she sat back down, right next to Pharah this time, “It’d be rather nice to ‘ave a friend to cross the Atlantic with.”

“I am not certain I would call us friends.” She looked over at Tracer skeptically. The idea of being trapped for 10 hours in a tiny metal tube with her was daunting.

Tracer leaned back in her chair. “All the more reason for us to ‘ave a little air trip to bond! We’ll be firm friends before you know it.”

Pharah simply stared at her.

Tracer shook her head and looked off out the window happily. “Someday, I’ll be wounded bravely in battle, and you’ll cry out, ‘Oh God, don’t you leave me, Lena!’, or whatever the Amari version of that is, likely something like ‘I’ll put a mark in your file over this, Oxton, so I will,’ but I’ll know what you really mean,  just you wait and see, love. I grow on people.”

“Like mold.”  Pharah was beginning to accept her fate, that no great joy comes without great sacrifice.

“And we can all go out! I know Ang would love it, we can get Chinese food and stay over at Win’s.” Her face darkened, “‘e does steal the garlic prawns, I should warn you.”

Pharah was not listening at all, simply thinking of Mercy. Should it be a surprise? No, it would be rude to show up on a woman’s door unannounced , and it was arrogant to think her coming would be so welcome. Mercy likely had many suitors, as beautiful and intelligent as she was.

But still…

“I will go.” She tried to seem rather neutral, but could not help a little smile.

Tracer nodded happily. “I’m a regular Cupid, so I am.”

Tracer thought happily on bringing two lonely people together for some fun, Pharah looked forward to the day when Tracer would no longer be a necessary evil to her life, and fate laughed.


End file.
